“I seal you. Only my blood shall unlock the power of the creation. I seal this curse. Let no one break it.”
The scepter sighed as if it were a being who heard his words and obeyed. Eliesmore let go and stepped back. A wind rushed through the archways, cleansing him from his dark affair with power. He turned his back on the room and moved to the staircase, and as he did, his heart felt lighter, and he felt like himself. Eliesmore the Cron. Son of Myran. Son of Halender. He felt like himself when he was young and naïve, foolish even. When all he dreamed of was his days of dancing with the Iaen. Everything was great and good, and no worries pierced his soul. A strong nostalgia hit him as he moved, and he knew, even though he’d done what he set out to do, it had ultimately ruined him, and his life would never be the same. He walked down the steps, pointing his footsteps toward the dranagins, thinking of the words he had to share with them before he returned to the fortress. A bleakness rose up within him, and he blinked, longing for the days when he was young, before life and its misery crept up and destroyed him. He wondered if the heroes of old felt the same way he felt. Fighting and winning in and of itself destroyed him. He could not be a normal mortal like the others. He could not fall in love, have a family and live out his days in peace in the Four Worlds. He was immortal now. He knew more than he should ever know. The Four Worlds had been saved, but not for him. A sigh escaped from his lips as he walked, thoughts drifted away, and even in the lightness he felt the sorrow, the curse he’d been warned against. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was in that moment, he decided to take a walk and remind himself what he had done and why.
101
Ellagine
Nine months after Eliesmore left, Ellagine gave birth to a child. She wept when she saw he was a male. She had feared it would be female as the line has been. As she held him, the words of a whispered lullaby came to her ears, and at long last, she understood the hidden message, layered under blessed words.
“Long may you live
Long may you prosper
Spread your seed far and wide
May your bloodline
The new breed
Grow ever strong
Blood of the undying
Blood of the immortal
Blood of the mortals
Blood of my blood
Long may you live
Long may you prosper
You shall walk in the light
You shall walk in the dark
You will blend with the air and land
Of shadows and sorrow
Of love and light
Of mischief and mayhem
Of folly and forgiveness
Long may you live
Long may you prosper.”
A male. She recalled her mother’s whispered words. It has to be a male to live forever to spread his seed far and wide. To create the new breed. Tell him to go to Daygone find the book of our people. Study it. You will know when it is time to rise. A new breed. A strong breed. The protectors of knowledge. The protectors of the world. The first of the Order of the Iaen.
Ellagine watched over him for ten years, and on his tenth birthday, in the year 955, he stood before her in the glade of the Iaen and spoke the truth.
“It is time for you to go,” he told her. He was an odd child. His eyes told her he was wise beyond his years. “You have nothing to fear from me. I am not a Changer. I do not love, and therefore I will not destroy the world because of love. I am the opposite of love. I am the opposite of fear. I am not swayed by emotion.”
“Will you take a name?” she whispered, for throughout the years of his growth she’d called him nothing.
“No,” his face was solemn with knowledge. “Names are powerful. I will be called a thousand things, but I will never share my true name.”
“When you want to know who you are and where you came from go to Daygone.” She pointed north.
“I came from you,” he shrugged.
“No,” she shook her head. “I may have borne you, but you did not come from me.”
“Of course,” he stepped back, holding out a hand to ward off her gaze. “Please. Don't look at me like that. You have nothing to fear. I have come to keep the balance. The world is at peace.”
She reached out to touch him, surprised at the lack of emotion she felt. Feeling cold she stepped back and raised her right hand. “I will go. Long may you live. Long may you prosper.”
102
Shalidir
Year 943 (13 years ago)
“We are free,” Sarhorr breathed in her ear. “At long last, we are free.”
She held on to him tightly, watching their bodies fall to dust. “Do you hear it,” she whispered.
He lifted his head, pure and white as he watched. The stars twinkled in and out of view, and they were magnificent. The heavens shook in glory shining with the luster of a thousand gems. He could hear their voices, as fragile as chimes, singing, exclaiming as they moved through the heavens, watching, waiting, speaking, listening, dancing.
“Aye. Paradise.” He glanced back toward the quickly disappearing planet. “Are we dead?”
“Yes.” She touched his face. “Can’t you feel the shift, the change? It’s as if we are born again, anew. The wishes and desires we had when we were trapped have gone. You are no longer a Changer. I am no longer a Green Person. We are beings at rest. At ease.”
He lay a hand where her heart used to be. “I did not think I would enjoy death with you, I thought my accomplishments would mean more, yet now that we are here, I find the Four Worlds meaningless. Do you think it will last?”
“We are older, wiser. Besides, it is up to Ellagine now. I have seen visions of the future. Our bloodline will last for eternity. We have left a legacy.”
Sarhorr let go of her waist and they held hands, watching worlds whisk by them as they fell.
“Do you have it?” He asked after a time.
“Yes,” she opened her hand, inside it lay the Light of Shalidir with the Green Light shimmering within it.
He hummed in pleasure at the piece of the Green Stone they had stolen. “When we are ready, we can start our own creation, but I am content for now.”
“Yes. What would you do with this new beginning?”
“I would have nothing more than to fall with you for an eternity. Let us forget the past, forget our names, forget the good and evil we have wrought. For now, let’s fall.”
“Death has made you kind,” she squeezed his hand. “I like you better now.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “And I you. Death has made me see how insignificant life was.”
She lifted a hand and pointed, looking down at their feet they saw a white light streaking across the heavens as they fell. The voices of the stars rose and soared, gathering around them while rubies and emeralds sparkled. They fell for years, making loops through the galaxies until time was nothing and they were forgotten as if they had never existed.
103
Eliesmore
Year 955 (Present Day)
Come. A voice hushed through the air, weaving itself into his dream.
Come with me. Eliesmore opened his eyes, staring upward at the pointed ceiling of the tower.
Come. It wasn’t a voice; it was a pulse weaving through the center of his being.
Come. A call he hadn’t heard in over ten years. The call of the Iaen. Excitement raced through his veins causing every pore to come alive with joy. He clasped a hand to his chest and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Stumbling across the cold stone floor, he ran his fingers through his fine black hair, his nails snagging on tangles of wavy hair. A pitcher of water perched near the window and he splashed it on his face, noting the fire had gone out, leaving naught but cold red embers, glowing like the eyes of a Changer. A momentary shudder shook his broad shoulders, and he leaned his weight on the windowsill, bringing his head forward to touch the cold glass. He blinked back memories of the past; they swirled around him like intangible dreams, visions
of a life it seemed he had lived, and yet as the time passed, it became impossible to determine. He was a legend now. He’d heard the stories they told of him, and the monuments they built in gratitude for the freedom he gave them. Their praise drove him away for they were unaware of the true cost, and he did not feel worthy of the heroic deeds they gave him credit for.
Come. The call shook him out of his reprieve, and a tang of bitter sweetness swept over him. After a brief stint in Daygone he’d returned to the fortress of the White Steeds and slept. At first, when he closed his eyes, his mind remained active, and sleep would not come. It took some time to understand the lore of the immortals and how to turn off the consciousness of his mind. Taking a room in the tower, he locked himself away to write his knowledge. Words spilled out of him, pouring onto pages and he wrote until his fingers bled and his head hurt, and then he slept. He filled a series of books with the things he had learned, and when the pages were filled with black ink, he opened a portal to Daygone and crept through, placing them on the bookshelves, sealing them with his blood. When the last book was complete, he opened the portal for the last time and hid the Phutal. It was broken, and although ideas of how to fix it filtered through his mind, he determined it was best to leave it as it was. Portals would open in Ellsmore (formerly Sidell), Castle Range and Daygone, because the key to moving between the Four Worlds was lost.
Come. Eliesmore let his eyes roam across the room, noting the bed in the corner, the desk with leaves of paper, scribbles and designs. Eventually, the mortals would find his chamber in the tower, yet he’d left no clues, nothing to give away his current state of mind. His hand fell to his side, an old habit, searching for the Jeweled Sword, the powerful weapon he’d put down long ago. He straightened his green tunic, embroidered with white and gold threads. There was nothing he wanted to take with him. It was time.
Come. Heart racing, he turned toward the western window where the Green Light winked in the early morning sky. Green motes danced through the air while words from the Truth Tellers flashed in front of him. They would miss him. Sir Regante and Triften hung on his every word, attempting not to bother him, yet basking in the glow of his company. More recently they had returned from a journey across the South World, bringing word of the Rulers of the West, the many adventures of Yamier and Wekin, and the continued political struggle in the Torrents Towers. While Eliesmore enjoyed hearing their tale, he found his heart full of longing, and it wasn’t until the call of Iaen came that he recognized the source of that longing and his true desire.
Come. Standing tall he strode to the door of his chamber. The round door opened soundlessly, and he closed it behind him with a click. He silenced the voice that prompted him to tell his friends farewell for he’d hinted about his departure. With a light tread, he moved down the spiraling staircases, meeting no one as if the fortress lay under a sleeping spell. Emerald and golden light streamed through high windows while awed whispers echoed off the cold stones as if invisible beings spoke to each other as he passed.
Come. He left out of the eastern entrance of the fortress, making his way toward the shores of Oceantic. Light bowed before him as if making way while the leaves of the trees rustled around him.
Eliesmore stepped out of the underbrush into the pure light of day while the waves rolled back from the shore in adoration.
She stood on the white sands with her back to him, one hand out, touching the prow of a swan-like ship with wings of glass stretching over the waters. She paused, a hand dangling in the air as if she heard his soundless footsteps. Spinning she faced him while a flutter of green dust blew across the sand as if welcoming Eliesmore to the shore.
“Ellagine,” a genuine smile lit up his face while a lightness spread throughout his body.
She tilted her head, her long light hair trailing down her back as she smiled at him. A pale shimmer covered her green skin, yet she wore a crisp white dress that flowed in waves to her feet, the edges kissing the sand. A white cloak lined with fur lay over her shoulders, thrown back to allow her bare arms to reach the sunlight. A playful vibe of joy and love filled the air while the call flared up within Eliesmore’s heart and he dashed across the sand, flinging his arms around her.
She laughed, bringing a hand up to cup his face as she kissed him, her lips just as soft and intoxicating as he remembered. “Eliesmore,” she whispered, drawing back before closing her eyes and kissing him again.
He ran his hands through her long hair, pulling back to study her face. Her eyes were older, wiser as if she held a grand secret, and for a moment he wondered what she’d spent the past ten years doing.
“I brought you this.” Ellagine held out a pure white cloak clasped at the throat with a replica of the Light of Shalidir.
“Thank you,” he stood still while she swept the cloak around his shoulder, closing it with the clasp. He ran his fingers over it, recalling his missing relic.
“Are you ready?” Ellagine slid her fingers down his arm, twining their hands together.
He nodded, leaning over to kiss her cheek as he squeezed her hand. “Where are we going?”
Ellagine pointed to the swan ship. “I thought we would sail to the Beyond, to the Pillars of Creation. Haven’t you always wanted to go?”
His eyes did not leave her face as he pulled her closer. “Yes, I am curious. Is that where you want to go?”
A peculiar light came into her eyes as she met his gaze. “Yes. And no. We don’t have to sail to the Pillars of Creation. We can explore Oceantic and the great seas of the Four Worlds. We can go wherever your heart desires.”
A beguiling fulfillment came over him, and he understood exactly what he’d searched for, precisely what he’d wanted for years. “My heart desires you.” He pulled her against his chest and kissed her long and hard.
When he pulled back her eyes were wet, and she blinked, turning her gaze back to the waters. “Well then,” she gave a short laugh, somewhere between joy and a sob. “We have nothing but a lifetime. Together.”
Together they walked through the waters of Oceantic while the ship rolled out a silver ramp, inviting them onboard. Once they were on deck, the swan turned its head and spread its silver wings, moving on its own accord across the waves.
He held her hand as they set sail and raised his eyes to the horizon. A peace filled his heart, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. After a time she began to sing, her voice as clear as crystal over the waters. She lifted her face to the skies, and when he looked up, he thought he saw a stream of white cross the skies and a flash of emerald green.
104
Afterward
Year 955. The Underworld
She stood in the dull light, listening to the frogs croak around her. Their bass voices jilted off the rock and stone, dipping into the song the crickets hummed. She blinked as if coming out of a dream, trying to remember why she was there, in the underworld. What had drawn her to its depths? Years, she’d searched until time seemed endless, and her quest lay forgotten at her feet, unfulfilled. Her body, if she still had one, told her to go home, yet a quiet pestering hummed in her mind, an unrest that drove her forward.
Arched gates rose before her, and she moved forward, hopping from one slick stone to the other, seeking dry ground. The pond beneath her shivered in the wind of her movement, black lily pads circling close to the shore. A lone guard stood at the gate, a pit of hollow blackness, waiting for her. His lanky frame was clothed in gold, and he held a black pitchfork in his hand. He took a step forward when he saw her. His expression turned to one of calm surprise. “Glashar?”
It had been her name once, and as it filtered through her mind, she found her memories awakening as she recalled why she was there. A fierce determination crashed over her in waves, yet her hand flew to her mouth, holding back a sob. “Dathiem?”
He towered above her as he spoke, uttering small explanations of wonder. “You came,” he whispered, adoration causing his da
rk eyes to come alive. He held out a hand. It looked gold in the pale light.
“How could I not,” she breathed, a question in her eye as she walked toward him. “You are alive. How?”
His gaze fell to his body and back to her, his eyes clear, shameless. “You once said, it does not matter who or what I am.”
“Yes,” her voice caught. “I will always love you.”
Even before he spoke his next words, she saw his shadow grow long, and the horns stretch out. “I am a Changer.”
Dear Readers
Thank you for reading The Complete Four Worlds Series.
If you loved the book and have a minute to spare, I would truly appreciate a brief review on the site where you bought the book. It can be short, so don’t worry about trying to sound too eloquent.
Before you get lost in yet another story, share your thoughts and help other readers find stories like these.
Leave A Review.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks goes to the amazing creatives I had the opportunity to work with.
To my sisters, Dorthea, Annie, Rebecca and Katrina for reading multiple rough drafts and burning the midnight oil providing comments, thoughts and suggestions for improvement.
Eliesmore and the Jeweled Sword Page 41
